Entrapment
by NikohlRose
Summary: 'For a moment, everything is frozen in time. "What have you done?" She heard a fierce growl from behind her and she whipped around, shocked, catching a glimpse of Cato's shining sword as it's thrown to the side, and everything is blown backwards into the air.' Katniss succeeds in blowing up the Careers' supplies... but she didn't account for becoming trapped with the enemy.
1. INTRODUCTION

**ENTRAPMENT**

 **[Notes: Some of this chapter has been taken from Chapter 16 of Suzanne Collin's masterpiece, The Hunger Games. I do not own any characters unless otherwise stated.]**

 **I published this story three years ago on my old account and have only now decided to update it. This is MY story. I am not stealing it from someone else.**

 **Introduction:**

The Cornucopia sat in its original position, but its insides were picked clean. Most of the supplies, held in crates, burlap sacks and plastic bins, were piled neatly in a pyramid in what seemed a questionable distance from the camp. Others sprinkled around the perimeter of the pyramid, almost mimicking the layout of supplies around the Cornucopia at the onset of the Games. A canopy of netting that, aside from discouraging birds, seemed to be useless, but served as a shelter for the pyramid itself.  
The whole set up, Katniss believed, was utterly confusing- the netting, the distance, and the presence of the boy from District Three. There was one thing, however, that she was certain of; destroying those supplies was not going to be an easy task.

She crouched down lower behind the brush, trying to get a better look at the piled supplies while still trying to remain invisible. Suddenly, a shout, and she knew that Cato had seen Rue's fire, which she also knew was fuelled by the green wood they had gathered that morning. They needed the fire to be visible, and stay that way until the older girl could blow up the supplies.

She inched her head up slowly, trying to get a better look at the Careers just as an argument broke out. She didn't know what it was over, but if she had to place a guess, she would bet on weapons. She felt disgust creep up on her ( _stupid, primitive animals)_ , but shook it away so that she could concentrate on what they were shouting about.

"He's coming. We need him in the woods, and his job's done here anyway. No one can touch those supplies." Cato said, full of arrogance, and she watched as he placed his sword vertical to his face and carefully inspected it, looking for any nicks that it may've sustained since its last sharpen. Satisfied when he found none, he placed it behind his back and crossed his arms, waiting for anyone to argue with his authority. They wouldn't.

"What about Lover Boy?" The boy from District One asked with a false sense of esteem. Katniss couldn't resist the urge to roll her eyes at the boy, despite the subject at hand. He may have come from a Career District, but he was still not a leader, and he was fooling himself to believe otherwise.

She could practically hear Cato sigh in exasperation. "I keep telling you, forget about him. I know where I cut him. It's a miracle he hasn't bled to death yet. At any rate, he's in no shape to raid us." She watched as Cato lightly tapped the side of his leg with the sword, waiting for the others to gather their weapons.

Katniss felt a swell of nausea at the thought of Peeta being out there, badly wounded by Cato's sword. Peeta, the boy with the bread was fighting for his life somewhere out there in the wild. She knew shouldn't care, but she couldn't help caring at least a little...  
She shook her head, as if to shake the bad thoughts away, and continued spying on the camp.

"Come on." Cato interrupted as another minor argument broke out between Clove and the boy from District Three. He thrust a spear into the hands of the boy, ending yet another small confrontation, and started toward the direction of the fire. Clove made a face at the young boy and flicked her knife into the air, catching it by its hilt in her small hand, and followed Cato. The boy stumbled over what Katniss assumed was a rock, and then followed the rest of the Careers into the forest, where Cato's words echoed menacingly, "When we find her, I kill her in my own way, and no one interferes."

Somehow, she knew that he wasn't talking about Rue. After all, Rue didn't drop a nest full of tracker jackers on him.

Katniss stayed put for half an hour or so, trying to figure how best to destroy the supplies. She remained crouched behind the brush, moving only when her muscles screamed in protest. She'll try as hard as she can not to disappoint Rue.

The sun burned her face, and she glared up at it- squinted, more like- wishing more than ever that there was at least some cloud cover. Growling under her breath, she shifted backwards. A tiny crunch under her feet alerted her to the fact that she had stepped on a twig, and she felt her face twist to an expression of alarm. She needed to be more careful. Her eyes turned back to the camp and she studied it for the boy carefully. He hadn't heard her, had he? By the looks of things, he hadn't, because she couldn't see him anywhere.

She thanked her lucky stars that he was the one chosen to remain behind; as soon as she figured out how best to destroy the pyramid, everything would be a piece of cake.

She briefly considered flaming arrows -as her advantage was distance- however there was no guarantee that the fire would catch, and then what? She'd lose an arrow, which was definitely something she didn't need to happen in the Games. The thought of being even slightly disadvantaged sent a shiver down her spine, and so she contemplated for a moment longer.

When she found no answers, she decided that she'd have to get in closer and see if she could discover what it was exactly that protected the supplies. She just started to move from her couch when a slight motion from off to the side caught her eye. She snapped back down into position and held her breath, thinking that it's one of the careers coming back. However when she caught sight of bright red hair, she exhaled, knowing that it was only Foxface- and Katniss doubted that the other girl would have the guts to kill anyone.

So she watched her, noticing how the red head stopped for a moment- nearly sniffing the air like the fox she so accurately represented -and then after deeming the coast clear, making a run for it in swift steps. She reached the small circle of supplies in no time, and stopped for a moment to study the ground.

Katniss inched closer to the scene unfolding in front of her, paying apt attention to Foxface, who she now knew was an incredibly smart individual to have entered the Careers camp undetected. But just what was she doing?

She carefully lifted her head and appeared to be counted under her breath. After a moment, the girl sprang into the air and with quick, lithe steps, bounded her way to the base of the pyramid, teetering slightly between hops when she nearly lost her footing. She launched into the air with another bound, over a small barrel, and landed lightly on her tiptoes. Bu she overshoots slightly, and her momentum threw her forward. With a sharp squeal her hands hit the ground below her, but nothing happened. After a brief moment of shock, she regained her feet and continued leaping along until she reached the base of the pyramid where most of the supplies were collected.

Well, it was definitely a booby trap.

Katniss whistled low and considered how complex it actually was. It would be impossible for her to get extremely close to the structure, and so she immediately eliminated that prospect. She definitely wasn't going to be risking her skin _that_ much. However she was comforted by the thought that she still had her arrows, and so could easily work from a distance. No, it wasn't imperative that she get up close.

She watched again silently as the girl filled her pack sparingly with a variety of foods from different containers - crackers, an apple from a burlap sack hanging from the side of a bin, and another food which she guessed was raisins, but couldn't be sure because of the distance. Katniss noticed that she took just enough to sustain herself for a short time, but not enough to arouse suspicion. So Foxface was a scavenger. Katniss filed that small titbit of information away for later use and contemplation, and continued to watch the site.

Foxface stood up after a short while, and practically skipped back -wobbling a tiny bit- to the edge of the supplies where she scampered off into the woods.

Katniss was grinding her teeth in frustration.

Just what was this booby trap? What did it do? What did Foxface know that the Girl on Fire didn't? The other girl had already confirmed what Katniss had only guessed at, but just what sort of trap had the Careers laid down that required such skill to get past? What sort of trap would have so many trigger points? Why did she squeal so much when she landed on the ground? It almost looked like she thought she was... going to... blow...up...

Slowly it began to dawn on Katniss that this was no ordinary trap.

"It's mined." She whispered to herself, and then quickly looked around her to see if anyone had heard. Her answer explained everything- it explained why the Careers were so willing to leave their supplies, Foxface's reaction and the involvement of the boy from District Three.

But just where did they get them? Katniss racked her brain for answers. In the supplies? No, that's not be the sort of weapon that the Gamemakers usually provide the children with, given that they like to see Tributes draw blood personally.

She slowly made her way out of her crouch and from behind the bush, almost tiptoeing her way toward the mines. She crossed over to the round metal plates that lifted the tributes into the arena and marvelled at how intelligent the boy from District Three was to have been able to reactivate them. It was definitely a first in Hunger Game history, and she mentally applauded the boy for getting one up on the Gamemakers.

But what was she going to do? Obviously she couldn't go waltzing in there, trying hopelessly to mimic Foxface's intricate dance around the explosives. That particular means was totally out of the question, unless she suddenly had a desire to commit suicide. As for sending a flaming arrow... well, that idea was laughable now.

She flexed her arm as she contemplated throwing stones, knowing that she had good aim and could most likely set the mines off. But how many would explode? One? That was certainly not enough to blow up the pyramid. But would it set off a chain reaction?  
She chewed the inside of her cheek as she mulled it over, thinking of how the boy may have placed the mines in such a way that a single mine wouldn't disturb the others, just make it loud enough so that the Careers would be alerted to having someone in their camp. Or, on the flipside, she thought to herself, a single mine that would serve to protect the supplies by killing the invader.  
Even by blowing up one mine, she knew that she'd be signing her own death warrant.

She glanced back up at the woods, toward Rue's fire.

She knew for certain that Careers would have already reached the source of the some, and would now be suspecting some sort of trick. Time was running out.

Katniss concentrated on the supplies, thinking hard of a way to blow the place up. The crates were too heavy to topple over with an arrow, and there wasn't anything dangling that she could shoot at, was there?

She inspected the pyramid again, and when she sighted the burlap sack of apples hanging at the side, she nearly sighed with relief.

All she had to do was shoot the apples and release them from the bag, they would topple out of the sack and land on the sensitive mines, effectively blowing up the rest of the supplies and disadvantaging the careers by a ten-fold. The idea was so simple, she nearly felt like laughing.

She moved into range and took aim.

Her first arrow ripped through the side of the sack near the top, leaving a small split in the burlap. The second widened the split into a gaping hole. She took aim one last time and released, just as an apple teetered out of the hole. The arrow caught the apple and the torn burlap, ripping the bag completely and sending the rest of the apples spilling toward the explosive ground below.

For a moment, everything is frozen in time.

 _"What have you done?"_ She heard a fierce growl from behind her and she whipped around, shocked, catching a glimpse of Cato's shining sword as it's thrown to the side, and everything is blown backwards into the air.

Katniss groaned as she felt her muscles shrieking in pain. She could feel her left temple throb, and immediately she knew that she had hit her head quite hard. By the looks of it, she had probably also passed out for a short amount of time.

She also noticed that her left ear was bleeding profusely, something which she was certain about due to the warm trickling sensation that made its way from her ear down her neck and onto the ground where it gently pooled at her cheek.

She then became acutely aware that she couldn't hear. Well, she could hear slightly, but most of what she could hear was drowned out by the buzzing, which she hoped would pass soon.  
She took a quick inventory of her body, wriggling her toes in her boots and feeling all of her fingers on her hands. She then moved her elbows, still not opening her eyes, and found that they were quite stiff and painful.

Yes, she had definitely been there awhile.

She rolled her shoulders and her neck, twisted her torso -which felt as if it had been run over by a mining cart heavy with coal- and then moved her legs from side to side, making sure that they hadn't been injured terribly either.

She then started to open her eyes so that she could see exactly where she was and make her way back to Rue.

She felt a stab of dread as she realised that poor Rue was out there all alone in the woods, while she, Katniss, couldn't even make it to the young girl.

She gritted her teeth, with a new found wave of determination, and opened her eyes a crack.

It was dark.

All she could see was darkness and she briefly wondered whether or not she had gone blind, then admonished herself for thinking such a stupid thing; if she were blind, she wouldn't be able to open her eyes at all, and they'd surely be painful.

Had she been passed out for that long? She looked upwards toward what she assumed was the sky in a desperate attempt to find the bright moon. But there was nothing there, and she bit her lip.

Something definitely wasn't right.

Suddenly she heard a groan from the area in front of her, and she stiffened, holding her breath so that she was completely silent. Just what had happened after the explosion? Had someone found her? Was she trapped? Why would she be trapped? Wouldn't the Careers simply kill her and have her out of the way?

A thousand questions flittered through her mind and she dully remembered seeing something shiny just before she was blown away. But what was it? She knew what it was, she knew where she was, and she knew just who was there with her, but for some stupid reason she just couldn't _think_.

Another groan silenced her thoughts, and she stared at the direction it had come from, feeling confident that the other person couldn't see her in the pitch black of the place that surrounded them.

Timidly, she shifted forward, biting her lip harder to avoid groaning in pain, and moved toward the source of the sound.

Haymitch would be beside himself. Imagining Haymitch screaming at a massive screen like an ape was somewhat humorous too her, and she smiled grudgingly. If the person near her was groaning in pain as well and hadn't made a move at her whilst she was passed out, then just how harmful could they possibly be?

Besides, maybe they had a torch or something.

She moved forward again, knowing that she was close to her enemy, and lightly touched what she assumed was a boot. She felt the other person stiffen and she briefly wondered whether or not this person was capable of harming her. Did they have any weapons on them?

She nudged their boot again and waited for a response.

All she received was a pitiful moan, and so she deemed them safe enough to approach.

"Have-" she croaked. She thirstily licked her lips and started again. "Have you got a torch on you? Matches? Anything that could allow me to see where we are?"

Her voice was feeble and weak, but it carried, and for that, she was thankful.

She listened intently for another moment, and was able to pick up the smallest of voices. It was a deep voice- definitely male -and it was filled labour. He was so obviously in pain that Katniss nearly felt bad for her opponent. _Nearly_.

"P-pocket." She managed to pick up, and she crawled her way to where she felt his pockets would be. Up his legs- which she felt were thick bands of muscle -and to his mid-torso where she imagined his pockets would be.

She fumbled in the material and found the thin cylinder that she was sure was a torch. In his pocket, she also found a small sharpened knife, which she silently placed on the floor beside their bodies, and a box of matches which she placed next to knife.

Now she floundered with the torch, trying to work out whether or not this torch was something she could turn on by twisting or by simply pushing a button.

After a short moment, she found that the lid was screwable and so proceeded to twist it.

Light suddenly flooded the room.

A shrill scream echoed off the walls and the torch thudded to the ground.

Katniss was at the other side of the room in half a second, still completely in shock at the person who was in the small space with her.

 _"Y-you."_ She breathed out, her voice shaking.

Her reaction? Completely understandable.

Especially considering that Cato, the brutal killer, was less than two meters away.


	2. WAITING GAME

**ENTRAPMENT**

 **Chapter One: Waiting Game**

 _"Y-you."_ Katniss breathed out, her voice shaking.

However she wasn't met with an intelligible reply. No, there wasn't an angry exclamation from her callous companion, nor was there a single move to threaten her.

All Cato, Cato the killing machine did, was groan.

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him in the small light that now illuminated the...ditch?... that they had been blown into. Carefully, she made a move for the torch that sat in between them and then quickly snatched it up off the ground, still not trusting that Cato was in too much pain to harm her.

She trained the light on him and quickly assessed whether or not he was still capable of damage.

His eyes were half closed and his blond hair was dirty, sticking to his forehead with blood, grime, and sweat. She noticed that his nose was bleeding, and that some of the blood was trickling into his mouth. His arms were peppered with large, dark, purple bruises, and his leg was sticking out at an odd angle. She noticed that he was clutching it, groaning under his breath.

No, she conceded, he wouldn't be hurting her any time soon.

She felt somewhat euphoric that she was the stronger of the two- stronger than Cato! -and noticed a smile start to pull at the corners of her mouth. She was stronger than Cato! The thought shouldn't have pleased her as much as it did, but in the middle of The Hunger Games, in the middle of a battle between life and death, knowing that she was stronger than her enemy certainly warranted her permission to smile.

She allowed herself to smile for a moment before a small trickle of guilt settled in her stomach. Yes, he was Cato, but he was still in pain and in desperate need of medical attention. Feeling happy for someone else's pain was something that went completely against her upbringing- not to mention that her mother and sister were healers as well... which she supposed was another factor which allowed her to feel guilty about being happy over another person's obvious hurt.

But he was _Cato_.

 _'Does it really matter?'_ A voice- her conscience, she supposed- whispered in the back of her head. She very nearly laughed at herself; having a conscience in The Hunger Games! That was a first. However she listened to that voice, and agreed that it was probably right. He may have been Cato, and he may have been a beastly, carnal Career, but his leg was broken and he was covered in bruises, trapped with a girl from District Twelve who was obviously better off than he was.

It must have been positively _killing_ him.

Speaking of which, shouldn't she be trying to murder him already?

She grimaced at the thought of murdering another person, and instead tried to think of him as nothing more than an animal, like Gale had told her to do.

 _Gale_. She felt her heart squeeze at the thought of her friend back home. Was he looking after her mother and Prim? She tried to push the thought of them from her mind- a coping tactic that she had developed in The Games- and concentrated on thinking of Cato as nothing more than a piece of meat.

After a moment, she deemed that it wasn't working very well, because he still looked disgustingly like himself.

Another thought nagged at her. Say she _did_ want to kill him- how would she do that? How _could_ she do that?

Despite her obvious dislike for killing humans, she had no weapons bar the knife- which she now realised was still sitting at Cato's corner of the ditch. He hadn't made a grab for it yet, but she still crawled forward to take it from his side. She wouldn't take any chances.

The most she could do would be to sever his windpipe by slitting his throat, and then what? He'd die? It wasn't as simple as that. Obviously the hovercraft wouldn't be able to pick him up, considering the fact that they looked pretty boxed in.

She tilted her head up to inspect the ceiling. No, they were definitely covered. Not a single beam of light could penetrate their new surroundings. Speaking of which, it appeared that they were in a perfectly shaped ditch, it appeared to be square, and about three meters deep. The sides were a mixture of dirt and roots, and the ground was- surprise, surprise -dirt as well.

So if Cato died in there, his body would- more than likely -stay in there as well. Which meant that he'd start to decompose... and decomposition meant a bad smell, and not mention about twenty diseases. So if Cato died, then she would probably die also.

She groaned and pulled at her hair.

She was trapped in a place she couldn't immediately escape, and to make things worse, the Career from District Two was trapped in there with her. Of course, he was rather incapacitated, so he couldn't exactly try to kill her.

Somewhat content with the notion that she wasn't going to die immediately, she turned off the torch to avoid wasting batteries, and leaned back onto the cool dirt wall behind her.

A loud groan broke the silence some time later and Katniss quickly fumbled for the torch. Clicking the screw lid into place, she trained the light on the boy across from her.

He was still sitting up and his teeth were gritted in pain. His hands were on his broken leg, and he hissed each time it moved slightly.

Apparently noticing the artificial light from the torch through the haze of pain, he lifted his head upwards and glared at the girl sitting across from him.

Katniss tilted her head in greeting, and continued to watch the boy in front of her, who was still scowling.

"Be careful or your face will set that way." She provoked, still keeping the beam of light on his face. She could practically feel the anger vibrating from his body, and she stiffened slightly. It was like being trapped in a cage with a nest full of tracker jackers.

She watched as he opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it with a harsh hissing sound. The veins on his arms were visible, and they appeared to be straining with the effort of keeping his broken leg in place.

Katniss idly wondered how long he'd survive for, or whether he'd survive at all.

It was only then that it dawned on her, like a bubble growing bigger and bigger, just on the brink of bursting... he couldn't die, lest she die also.

 _Pop._

The metaphorical bubble burst and she was sent into a spin of broken thoughts and sarcastic snipes about her current situation.

Cato couldn't die. Well, he _could_ , she amended, but she wasn't allowed to let that happen.

Once again, she thought of decomposing bodies and diseases, knowing all too well of the stench that a carcass let off. She certainly wasn't about to become trapped with a carcass. There was no way, absolutely _no_ _way_ that she'd put up with such a stench. She may have grown up in the seam, but human body odour didn't smell nearly as bad as a rotting body.

Not to mention the infections. She'd be dead in a week... if no one found them first.

Mentally sighing, she accepted the fact that the only thing she could do was to keep him alive until either someone found them, or until she figured a way out of the hole.

Brilliant.

Coming back to the present, she realised that she had to help the boy from District Two and keep him alive for as long as possible. The simple idea of going near him- even when he was in such blinding pain- sent a shiver down her spine. But she had to do it. She needed to keep her promise to Prim.

Swallowing her fear, she stood up slowly -making a face at the desperate way her muscles protested- and crouched toward the slumped over Cato.

She was so close now that she could barely breathe. His body heat radiated and prickled on her skin ( _or was it just his anger_?) and she could practically feel the flutter of his rapid, laborious breaths.

She placed the torch down on the earth in the corner closest to his broken leg, making sure that it was in a position so that it highlighted his entire body.

Satisfied, she lowered herself so that she hovered next to him.

She couldn't properly process what she was about to do. She knew that broken bones could kill people, she knew that if she didn't put the bone back in place and set it right, then it would be prone to infection. She knew that if she left it for too long, the marrow could seep into his bloodstream and kill him almost immediately. She knew that he'd die in a matter of days if she didn't look after his injury.

She had reached a crossroads within herself; not wanting to save his life, and yet knowing she had to in order to save her own. Let Cato die and become trapped with a decomposing body, or let him live and... do what? Sit there? Be annoyed to death? Be somehow killed in her sleep?

Every sane part of her screamed at her not to save him. But she couldn't chance death- she wasn't going to kill him and hope that someone find her before she became ill.

Groaning, she knew that she would most certainly regret this.

Taking the knife from her pocket, she placed it beside her and started stripping off her jacket. She didn't want to, because it would open her up to hypothermia, but she had no other choice, and Cato was far worse off than she had ever been.

She finished taking off her jacket and with the knife, started to sever it through its middle. Once she was left with two pieces, she placed both on the ground and bit her lip, inching closer to Cato.

Even whist moaning in pain, he was still terrifying.

"Cato," She started, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice even. Survival rule one-oh-one: never show your enemy just how much you fear them. "I'm going to wrap your leg so that it stays in place." She finished, proud of the fact that her voice didn't tremble once.

She made a move for his leg and flinched when he hissed and pulled his leg away from her, groaning loudly when it moved.

"D-Don't," She heard him stutter, still in agony. "Don't t-touch me." He hissed again and clutched his leg tighter still.

Katniss barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Don't be stupid," She told the boy, no longer intimidated. She made another move toward him, but he flinched, and groaned again when his leg was moved. "Hold still! I'm not going to hurt you!" She exclaimed as she reached toward his leg again.

"Go a-away." He replied in barely a whisper.

Katniss exhaled in annoyance and folded her arms across her chest. Didn't he get it? She was trying to help him!

"I said l-leave!" He said again, his temple throbbing.

"And I said I'm not going to hurt you!" She whispered furiously at him. "Just stop-"

He moved his leg again away from her, this time managing not to groan too loudly.

"I said _stop_!" She repeated. "If you haven't noticed already, we're trapped. Which means that if one of us dies- which by the looks of it, will be you -then this whole place is going to reek of death and disease. Ever smelt a carcass before?" She seethed, trying to get closer to him still.

"The hover-" Groan. "hover craft-"

"I said we're _trapped_ ," She replied. "Get that through your stupid big head! We're trapped as in _actually trapped_. The hovercraft can't get through this damn place!" She was absolutely furious with him. Was he an idiot? Didn't he understand that he couldn't die?

It was silent for a moment in which Cato apparently debated over whether or not he should allow Katniss to treat his leg. Katniss didn't make another move toward him, and instead settled on planning out her next move. She had seen her mother and Prim treat broken bones before. A few miners who had been caught under rubble, and young children who had somehow fallen out of trees had come in, all with one or more distorted limbs, just like Cato's. But even back in District Twelve, there was at least some form of pain medication.

Cato wouldn't have access to any pain medication out here in the Arena, and even if he did, they wouldn't be able to get to it. He would just have to suck it up... as best he could.

She was pulled back to attention when she noticed that very slowly, Cato was letting go of his broken leg, hissing whenever he touched it the wrong way.

"Finally." She muttered, and moved closer to him so that she could get better access to his limb.

She reached out toward his leg and gently touched it. Cato groaned again, and attempted to hit her hands away. She beat him to it, though, and slapped his arm.

"No," She admonished him. "Don't touch it."

It was then that she realised treating his leg would be nearly impossible, especially when he kept on moaning and groaning at the slightest of touches. How could she possibly move a bone back into place when he was there trying to stop her? She knew that it was something that had to be done, but _how_?

Just like that, an idea formed in her mind.

Leaning back to grab the torch, she asked Cato to _please_ move forward so that she could check the back of his head. Surprisingly, he obliged after a couple of seconds and managed to lean his body forward for her.

Taking the torch in both hands, she felt its weight and knew that it would do the job just right. Smiling to herself, she moved closer to Cato and raised the torch above her head.

Quickly she swung the torch downwards and with a hard thud, knocked Cato out cold.

Never in her life had she felt as much satisfaction as she did in that moment.

When Cato came to, he came to with another pitiful groan.

Katniss had been leaning back on the wall closest to the male Tribute's body, watching him for any signs that he was dying. He had been out for a few hours, his sleep filled with shaky breaths and whispered exclamations of pain.

She looked down at his leg and smiled grimly. Yes, she had moved the bone back into place, but there was no telling whether or not an infection had settled. So far, he appeared to be fine. Well, she conceded gloomily, fine enough.

When she heard his breathing change, she sat up straighter and watched his face intently.

She looked on as he slowly opened his eyes and peered down his body to check out his leg. He seemed to notice that it was no longer at an odd angle, and so he looked around for a short moment until his eyes landed on Katniss beside him.

Katniss stiffened and held her breath, knowing that he couldn't hurt her, but still unsure of what he would make of this situation. Not that his opinion mattered to her, of course. Only that they would be staying together for a while now, and she didn't fancy being trapped with an irate Career.

They stared at each other, Katniss chewing on the inside of her cheek and Cato apparently trying to level his breathing.

After a while, Katniss decided to break the silence.

"I put your leg back into place." The girl stated. She couldn't think of anything else to say. What could she say? 'Hi, pleasure to meet you. My name is Katniss Everdeen and we're officially trapped together. In a hole. During The Hunger Games.' No, no, no. It was all wrong. There was nothing that she could actually say to this boy. Not that she honestly wanted to, of course. She had never been one to break the silence. Usually, she was the one who initiated the silence. Not this time though, and it irked her some.

"I noticed." He replied flatly, without missing a beat. His breathing was just starting to settle down, and oddly, that comforted Katniss. It shouldn't have. She should be feeling comforted that he was so bad off he couldn't harm her. At least she knew that he wouldn't be dying any time soon. Maybe that was why Katniss was feeling comforted- she wouldn't be catching any diseases in the foreseeable future.

It was silent again in the hole, both opponents staring at each other, neither blinking, neither willing to back down. It was almost a competition of dominance- whoever moved first, whoever blinked, whoever breathed, would be the loser; and Katniss wasn't a loser.

Eventually though, Cato needed to rub the back of his head, and Katniss felt a small drip of pride seep through her system. She was still the stronger one.

She broke eye contact and tilted her head backwards onto the earthy wall behind her. The dirt was damp, and smelt heavily of the forest back at District Twelve. She was comforted by that, and breathed in deeply to enjoy the scent.

After a moment she heard Cato move, and she snapped her head back down to look at him.

He was trying to lift himself up so that he wasn't slouched. If her own aches and pains were anything to go by, then she knew that his muscles would be in absolute agony from not moving for so long... not to mention his head. She estimated that they had been in the hole for a few hours, however she wasn't one hundred percent sure, due to the fact that they had both been passed out initially. Any amount of time could have passed since the explosion, and they wouldn't have a clue.

Without looking at her, she heard him ask, "Have you got any water?" She felt her pants pocket for the canister, and nodded at him. "Can I?" He asked, eyeing her hands.

She nodded again and took the canister in her hands. She carefully crawled forward a tiny bit and handed him the water. The space was so tiny, and she was relieved that neither of them were claustrophobic.

He took the water with slightly shaky hands and proceeded to angle his head back so that he could take a swig.

"Careful." Katniss said, reaching out to take the canister back. She was annoyed when he inclined away from her, still drinking.

"That's all I have!" She exclaimed angrily, and this time snatched the water out of his hand. She shook the container and was relieved to find that it was still half full. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not magical," She started. "I can't just make water appear out of mid air. This is all we have until we figure a way out of here." She placed the water back into her pants pocket and leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms.

He glowered at her and snapped, "I know you're not bloody magical, but I have a broken leg, _in case you haven't noticed._ "

"Of _course_ I didn't notice," She replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What with all the groaning, I thought you were having the time of your life."

"Don't speak to me like that, Twelve."

"Then don't drain the only water we have, Two."

They scowled at each other, Cato sending daggers and Katniss throwing them right back.

After a while, Cato broke the silence.

"How long have we been in here for?" He asked, actually sounding slightly arrogant despite the position he was in.

Katniss lifted an eyelid lazily and replied, breathing out slowly to keep her cool. She shouldn't get so exasperated with him- she needed to conserve as much energy as possible.

"No idea. Since I've been awake... a few hours maybe."

"Any canons gone off?"

"Not from what I've heard."

They were silent again.

Katniss closed her eyes and licked her lips. She couldn't possibly sleep with Cato so close, but she knew she had to try. He couldn't move his leg without harming her, and the knife wasn't close. Plus, as she had explained to him ( _Did he even remember?_ ), if one of them died, then the other would surely catch some form of disease and die soon after. Her thoughts only comforted her mildly, yet she still didn't feel relaxed enough to sleep.

"You should rest," Katniss spoke, opening her eyes to look at her unwilling roommate again, who appeared to be wide awake. "Give yourself time to heal."

"How do I know you won't just kill me?" He prodded, and Katniss sighed, her fears confirmed. Obviously the boy didn't remember what she'd told him before, and in the mean time hadn't come to the same conclusions that she had earlier.

"Because," She started. "We're trapped. If one of us dies, the other will be trapped in a small space with a decaying body. What do you think will happen then? The body's going to smell- it's going to turn to mush- then it'll become contagious; diseased. The living person will become ill and eventually die anyway."

"The hover-"

"Look up, Einstein," She huffed. "Does it honestly look like a hovercraft can get in here?"

Cato unwillingly looked up toward the blocked ceiling, and she noticed his teeth clench again. He could obviously see her logic, and it peeved him like nothing else. Score one for Katniss.

"The Gamemakers will find us," He stated. "Either that, or one of the other Tributes will."

Katniss considered that for a while, and grudgingly came to admit that he was right. Someone would have to find them eventually.

"Maybe they think we're dead. Maybe they think we died in the explosion..."

"And not leave a body behind? I know you're not very educated- coming from Twelve- but-"

Katniss saw red. "Explosions don't always leave behind bodies, genius. If someone's close enough, and if the explosion is hot enough, there's rarely any evidence that a person died."

Silence again.

"There would be a body-"

"No, there wouldn't." Katniss glared at him. He was impossible! Didn't he realised that she obviously knew more about explosions than he did? She came from District Twelve! There were explosions there all the time in the mines! Especially that one... no body to bring home... no father to greet his children. Blown into smithereens in an instant; gone without a trace.

"And just how would _you_ know, Girl on Fire?" He mocked, leaning toward her as best he could without disturbing his leg. "Just how would you know whether or not there would be traces of human matter in an explosion?"

Katniss's breathing hitched, and her vision blurred. She was strong, she wouldn't cry. More than anything if she did cry, it would be out of pure frustration. She was trapped in a small space with a cocky, arrogant killer. She wondered what she had done to deserve such a punishment.

"I come from District Twelve," She snapped. "What do you think?"

He opened his mouth to retaliate when the sound of a canon interrupted whatever he was about to say . The two Tributes looked at each other, shocked, and then looked upwards. Katniss scrambled for the knife which was sitting next to her and moved to the other side of the cave where the ground was slightly harder and dryer. Then, she dragged the knife through the dirt, forming a single short line to symbolise the death of another Tribute.

"Eight left." Katniss whispered. Her mind flittered to Peeta, and then to Rue, but she quickly pushed the thought of them to the back of her head. No time to think of them now. No time to block her judgement.

"How do you know that no cannons went off when we were both knocked out?" He asked her. She turned around to look at him and bit her lip.

"I don't." She replied.

A couple of beats passed.

"The finale's nearly here." He murmured, breathing out. He nearly seemed disappointed that he was missing out on another blood bath.

"We're still alive," She reminded him. "Unless the ground crushes us, we'll both be in the finale."

A feeling of heaviness settled around them, both of them thinking of the same thing, both of them knowing exactly what was going to happen; when the sixth cannon blasted, Katniss would be the only one in a position to kill. She would- more than likely -become the Victor.

"So I'm just sitting here waiting to die." Cato stated, leaning back against the wall.

"Basically." She replied dully.

The silence settled around them again like a heavy weight, and Katniss noticed Cato shift. Apparently, he didn't like the silence. Brilliant. Not only was he an arrogant bastard, he was also a talker. All to Katniss's delight.

"How're you going to kill me?" He asked after some time had passed. Katniss glanced up at him and saw that he had his head leaned back, his eyes half closed. Apparently he wasn't so scared that she was going to kill him anymore. Maybe he was accepting that death was inevitable.

"With the knife," She replied. "I'm going to slit your throat." There was no use sugar coating it. He didn't deserve it, and it was going to happen regardless.

He mulled that piece of information for a bit, and then stated, "Nice and quick. I'd expect you to draw it out a bit though; make me suffer."

"Don't tempt me." She replied flatly, mimicking his laid back demeanour by letting her head loll backwards.

"Aren't you going to look for a way out?" He asked her again. Why did he insist on talking? What was it about her that made him think she was open to any conversation? Then she got it; he was annoying her on purpose. Did he have a death wish?

She lifted her head and leisurely glanced around. she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and exhaled. "Four dirt walls and a high ceiling blocked by something heavy," She raised a brow. "Do you honestly think that there's a way out? Even if we _could_ climb these walls without the dirt crumbling beneath our feet, what would we do when we reached the ceiling? Push that -whatever it is- away?"

He made a face at her and leaned back again.

Some more time passed and it was only after what seemed like an hour than Katniss looked up to see a small beam of light enter the ditch. It must have been night time before when she assumed that no light could enter. The beam came from the side of the blockage, which didn't mean a whole lot, only that they were still able to keep track of time.

She peered over at Cato, who she knew had come to the same conclusion as her.

The beam was just wide enough to illuminate the ditch almost completely, so Katniss reached over to the torch and turned it off to conserve its battery.

Cato appeared ghostly white in the new pale light, and Katniss knew that she would probably look the same.

"It's only been a night," Cato stated. "Thought it would've been longer than that."

Katniss agreed, "It feels like it's been days."

"Maybe it has," He started again. "Maybe we were out for a whole day."

Katniss gave him a look, "I doubt that we could've been knocked out for over twenty-four hours."

Cato made to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of Katniss's stomach, which grumbled loudly. She was absolutely _starving_. She placed her hands on her stomach and sighed. How would they find food? She certainly didn't have anything on her.

"Got any food?" She asked Cato, thinking that he would have something on him. Surely a big thing like him would keep some kind of snack in his pockets?

"No." He quipped.

She raised her eyebrows again, not believing him for a second, "You do-"

"And just why should I give you any?" He asked. "Surely it takes longer to die of a broken bone than it does to die of starvation."

Katniss pursed her lips and willed herself not to start shouting at him. She needed to keep her head; she couldn't give him any satisfaction. Cato would not have the upper hand. Yet she didn't have a reply to give him, because he was right. Just why should he give her any food? Because she fixed his leg? Because she blew up his supplies? Because they obviously weren't in The Hunger Games?

"I'll knock you out again and keep it all for myself." She threatened.

"I'll stop you."

"You wouldn't be able to."

She could practically hear him grinding his teeth together in annoyance.

"It's my leg that's broken not my arms, dumbass."

Katniss rolled her eyes and leaned toward him. Very lightly, she tapped his leg, which made him hiss loudly and grab it tightly.

"I doubt that you'd be able to stop me." She replied, smiling.

He growled at her -actually growled- and nursed his aching leg, "You're a bitch."

"Only in the presence of a moron." She replied.

Silence ensued, and Katniss wondered whether or not she would actually die of starvation? Would they be found? Of course they would be found eventually... but by who? How long would it take? Which of them would die first? Katniss didn't once doubt Cato's abilities, and knew without a doubt that he would be able to kill her with his bare hands if he had to. He wasn't one to go down without a fight.

There was one thing she knew for absolute certain, and it was something that gave her chills which trickled all the way down her back like icy tendrils: they were going to be trapped together for a long time... and if someone found them, they'd both be completely vulnerable, like mice trapped in a snake cage.

So all as they could do was wait.

Wonderful.


	3. TREPIDATION

**ENTRAPMENT**

 **Chapter Two: Trepidation**

It came as quite the surprise to the two trapped Tributes when the thin, silvery beam of light timidly appeared on Cato's side of the ditch, signalling the start of a new day. Katniss had estimated -a rather tedious task when it involved trying to include her roommate's opinion- that they had been trapped for a total of two-to-three days.

In fact, Katniss had already phlegmatically noted that even if she did die, she'd at least feel accomplished over the fact that she'd managed to stand Cato -the great arrogant arse- for longer than five minutes.

Silence had once again washed over the ditch, and the Tributes found themselves either staring at strangely shaped clusters of dirt which distantly resembled political figures (Cato), or thinking hard about ways of finding food and water (Katniss).

Already Katniss had considered boiling some of the roots that lined the walls of the ditch to make a kind of broth, of course, that option wasn't possible considering they had a half-canister full of water left. She had considered eating the roots raw, but knew from experience that they were nearly impossible to chew through unless they were young, and came from a Pine Tree. She wasn't sure what the identity of the roots were, so she had come to the conclusion that she wouldn't risk eating them unless her state of hunger became dire.

As for finding water, she didn't even know where to begin.

Some more time passed, and soon the beam of light came to rest in between the Tributes. Neither had said a single word; both either too absorbed in their activities or enjoying the peace and quiet too much to bother.

Of course, it was Cato who broke the silence a short moment later.

"Well," He started, placing his hands behind his head and leaning backwards into the dirt as much as he could. "I'm bored."

Katniss cocked a brow at him. "What do you want me to do about it?"

He yawned loudly and ruffled the back of his head where his hair was sticking up from constantly laying on it. "I don't know," He replied. "I just don't want to spend my last days being bored out of my mind."

Katniss rolled her eyes at him, detecting the sarcastic edge that his words inhibited. She knew that he, most likely, thought that he could still win The Games despite having a broken leg; there was no way that he was just sitting there waiting to die. He was certainly cocky enough to presume that he could fight his way out of the Arena despite his disability.

"Deal with it." She stated unsympathetically.

He was quiet for another short time before he started humming under his breath.

Katniss tried to tune him out- she tried counting the roots in the walls, considering hunting techniques, and even re-braided her hair, but no matter what she did, she couldn't drown out the sound of Cato's humming. Eventually, after ten-or-so minutes of the torture, she snapped.

"Will you _stop it_?" She fumed, even going as far as taking a heap of dirt into the palm of her hand and throwing it at the Career.

The dirt hit his face and he dramatically spat repeatedly onto the ground, taking great care to wipe the remnants of the dirt from his mouth with the back of his hand. He silently glared at the girl, practically spitting fire her way, and retaliated by throwing a palm of dirt at her.

Katniss was quick to block the attack, and swiftly turned herself around so that she was sitting cross legged facing the wall. The dirt hit her back instead of her face, and she smiled, feeling as if she had just gotten another one up on the biggest competitor of The Games.

"Missed me." She stated, turning around again to face him. His ears were turning red with what she rightly assumed was anger. Obviously, he wasn't happy over the fact that she had escaped his assault.

"I noticed." He replied tightly, unable to retaliate the way he obviously wanted to, judging by the harsh set of his eyes and thin line of a mouth, scowling.

Katniss smiled his way to spite him, aware that she was playing with fire, however also knowing that he couldn't exactly move very far with his leg.

 _'I'd like to see him try.'_ She thought.

Another pressing silence occurred, broken again by his humming. She gritted her teeth and turned to face the wall again, singing under her breath to drown out the sound. She considered throwing another fist of dirt at him, but didn't act upon her impulse, as that would -more than likely- force him to retaliate, which was something she didn't need at that moment.

Once he realised that she was singing, he hummed louder than before and changed his tune. Katniss imagined his face to be one of gratification, one that would surely match that of a kitten taking home its first kill. Prideful, abhorrent asshole.

She wouldn't dare sing louder. She glanced up toward the ceiling, briefly wondering whether or not it was soundproofed, but immediately trashed the idea and shook her head. She wouldn't dare try.

Unable to sing any louder, and unable to hear her own voice, she was forced to listen to his horrible humming.

It was a tune she recognised.

 _Are you, are you_

 _Coming to the tree,_

 _Where they strung up a man they say murdered three_

Her heart galloped and her pulse throbbed in her neck with every beat.

How did he know that song? Where had he heard it? She had always thought that it was her father's song, always imagined that it was the song that only he could sing. Why did Cato, from District two, know the tune? It was baffling.

Whirling around to face him, brows creased, she asked in a small whisper, barely believing that Cato was truly humming the tune of 'The Hanging Tree'.

" _How do you know that song?"_ Why did she care?

Cato stopped mid-hum ' _Where a dead man called for his lo-'_ and stared at her with a confused look.

"What do you _mean_ how do I know that song?" He questioned, unsure.

"I mean exactly what I said," She was being careful. "How do you know that song?"

He considered for a moment before cautiously answering, tilting his head to the side in a way that made you think of a predator, sussing out his prey. She shivered.

"I heard it once." He was giving her a strange stare, his own brows furrowing just a tiny bit.

"But where?" She pressed.

"I... don't know." He clipped, not willing to give her any full answers.

"But just-" She began.

"No. I can't remember." And that was that. He laid his head back on the earthy wall behind him and closed his eyes, almost as if he were prepared to sleep.

But Katniss wasn't going to be silenced. Just who did he think he was? Katniss grinded her teeth and asked again, her patience waning.

"Tell me." She crept closer to him.

"No." He replied, watching her from under his lids.

"Where did you hear that song?" She urged, moving another inch.

"I told you already: I can't remember." He stated, his voice hardening slightly. He slowly moved his head back up to a more read position- his demeanour was no longer as lax.

"Don't lie to me" She stated, already closer to him than she really cared to be. She was pushing her luck and she knew it.

Her words definitely had an effect on him. He glowered at her and didn't reply, his scowl set.

None of her questions had been answered, and she was deeply unsatisfied.

He laid back again, still without the relaxed attitude of the previous few minutes. It was obvious she was annoying him just as much as he was annoying her, and that single fact gave her a small amount of comfort, of achievement.

She dropped the subject, only because she didn't want to argue again. She wasn't a stranger to disagreements; after all, she and Gale had had their fair share back in District twelve. It was just the fact that she would rather not argue with _him_ ; because she was trapped with _him_ , in the Hunger Games. If anything, she'd try not to push his limit too far.

But why did he know that song?

She stowed away the question for later, promising herself that she would have it answered before they were found, and crawled back to her position across the room.

The very thought of being found made her uneasy. It was inevitable, and if she wasn't the last tribute, she would die.

She suppressed a shiver, however couldn't suppress the goose-bumps that slithered up her spine.

She could die.

She knew that, yet the fact still managed to make her uneasy. Back in the actual Arena, she didn't think of it. Not because it was too hard to accept, but because she wouldn't accept it as an option. Oh she knew it was something that _could_ happen, yet she didn't choose to _believe_ it was a possibility.

However now that she was temporarily unable to fight, she found herself thinking more and more on the prospect of death. It could happen, and it probably would; but it wasn't something she wanted to dwell on.

Dwelling though, was inevitable.

Later during the day, as the beam of light drifted across the floor, Katniss wondered about Peeta, and whether or not he was alive. When she had wondered out loud, Cato had rolled his eyes and told her that she was being stupid for thinking of her district partner.

She had asked him about Clove, and he hadn't replied. She didn't press the issue further because, frankly, she didn't care.

They didn't talk much in the ditch.

Neither of them really felt the need to communicate with one another; one, because they were enemies and were supposed to be killing each other, and two, because they clashed too much.

Never in her life had she met someone she clashed with so much. Cato was like an annoying splinter lodged in her finger; he was an uncomfortable source of irritation you could mostly ignore- it was only when you thought about it it's presence really became an issue.

The anecdote made her smile.

Sometimes though, Cato would say something (mostly a complaint about where they were or who he was with) and she would reply in clipped tones. Their brief exchanges were never malicious, and they didn't mention the Games.

Initially, she was surprised that Cato didn't mention the Games. It was only when she thought about it that she realised it wasn't really surprising at all; he was trapped with someone he probably hated, and he would more than likely end up dead. He was simply waiting for death to claim him.

Not mentioning the games, Katniss deduced, was a coping mechanism. Denial.

She understood him, which unsettled her; if given the chance, she would want to forget the Games as well. Of course, understanding what made the machine tick, bothered her.

She looked over at him and saw that he was sleeping. He was peaceful when he was asleep; his face wasn't moulded into an ugly scowl, and he appeared so relaxed. He even snored.

When Cato was asleep, it was hard to imagine that he was the one who had killed so many during the games at the Cornucopia. It was hard to imagine that he was the boy who wielded the sword. Because during sleep, when he was at his most vulnerable, it was almost too easy to envision him as an average boy; just another person affected by the Games.

It was something that Katniss tried not to think about, because it made him seem more human; it would make it harder to kill him when the time came. It was easier to imagine killing him when he was awake and insulting her; it was easier to see nothing but the monster inside.

She sighed and pulled her knees up to her chin.

Despite herself, she didn't want to think that Cato was more complex than he seemed; that maybe he actually _was_ just another person affected by the Games and not a heartless, Capitol programmed robot. He would be far harder to kill, if that were the case.

So instead of thinking about Cato, she thought about home, and about how desperately she needed to win the Games for her younger sister.

It was raining outside.

The ditch was blanketed by darkness, however the small ' _pit, pit, pit'_ signalled to the two reluctant occupants that it was most definitely raining outside.

Katniss licked her lips worriedly, an anxious expression crossing her face.

She hoped that the Gamemakers didn't turn the drizzle into a downpour- she certainly hoped that there wouldn't be enough rain to flood the ditch; the possibility was simply terrifying.

Not only that, but as she grudgingly noticed, a small puddle was starting to form on the dirt. If this rain continued, then eventually the whole floor would be covered in water, leaving Katniss a shivering mess on the ground. She had already cut up her jacket for Cato's leg, after all- a move which she admitted wasn't a very smart decision, because she was now left without warmth.

A few minutes passed, by which time the puddle was about the size of a small hoopla hoop, and was almost reaching Katniss who was shivering in the corner. It suddenly seemed as if the small space was colder, with the rain showing no signs of letting up any time soon.

She was worried.

She glanced over at Cato and saw an uneasy look cross his face. He had reached the same conclusion as she. Their eyes met and she looked away, hoping that she appeared fearless. There was no way that she'd act as if she were scared, even though she was very much frightened.

The rain continued to drizzle, and soon the puddle had nearly reached her toes.

She was shivering, cold as ever, and small puffs of fog appeared every time she breathed out. She clasped her arms around her tightly, pulling her knees up to her chin so that she wouldn't get wet. She couldn't risk hypothermia.

Taking another look at Cato, she rolled her eyes.

Apparently, his side had a small incline -something which she hadn't noticed before- and he appeared to be sitting on a small island. Arse.

Closing her eyes, she imagined warm fires. She visualised the fire crawling up her arms, swiftly burning life into her blood stream, spawning warmth throughout her body. Her mother had once told her when she was young -during a cold night in the Seam at a time when her father hadn't been able to get his hands on some firewood- that if you visualised something for long enough, if you truly believed it to be true, then it would eventually become your reality. She remembered that the lady had likened it to phantom pregnancies, something that occurred because a woman wanted to be pregnant so badly that she ended up tricking her body into believing that it was real, however despite the evidence, she had scoffed, believing the 'wife's tale' to be plainly stupid.

She still hadn't changed her opinion, despite the small hope that it would work... because it didn't. In fact, imagining how warm she _could_ be made her feel even colder than before.

She looked at Cato and felt extreme jealousy; he was warm and dry, whereas she was incredibly cold and nearly wet.

Seeming to feel her glare on him, he turned around. As if to spite her, as if to rub in the fact that he was warm, he winked.

Katniss blinked twice and scowled, pulling her arms tighter around her.

After a while, the rain still hadn't let up and she was now sitting in an inch of water. Her hands were as pale as a corpse and she felt like death. Her nose had started to run slightly, and she knew that without a doubt, she would get hypothermia. Judging by the numbness that had recently started to spread through her toes, the onset of the condition had already started.

Cato was still on his side of the room, dry as dry, and grinning. Her discomfort was grossly pleasing to the male Career.

Katniss shivered and breathed out a shaky breath, watching the fog leave her mouth with every shaky exhale. She could die.

The realisation of that likely prospect didn't exactly shock her, however it forced her survival instinct to surface.

She needed to get to higher ground.

Cold, shaking, and nearly completely numb, she slowly moved her way over to Cato who was no longer grinning, and instead was showing signs of mild panic.

Katniss needed to be warm, she needed to get to higher ground. The fact that Cato was sitting there barely registered with her. Somewhere within her, she knew that he wouldn't do anything to her that would endanger her life. After all, he wouldn't endanger his with the chance of dying because of being trapped with a diseased corpse.

Shivering, she splashed through the freezing water and reached the boy; she functioned only on instinct.

He was tense; that she knew. However she sat down beside him anyway on the dry ground and sidled up next to his large body so that she could try and become warm.

Later, she would regret this.

Later, she wouldn't remember the icy fingers of death as they nearly latched onto her, and later, she would question whether or not her need was as desperate as she believed at the time.

Later, she would remember the feel of his warm body, seeping life into her own.


	4. THE ANNOUNCEMENT

**Chapter Three: The Announcement**

When Katniss awoke some time later, she was aware of three things.

First, it was dark and cold inside their prison.

Second, the rain had stopped, leaving a thick layer of mud in the centre of the hole.

And third, to her side, was a muscular, warm mass breathing deeply.

The memories from the day - night? - before came flooding back to her as she shook the sleep from her system and she instantly regretted the survival decision that she had made. She felt strongly, now that she was no longer in dire need of warmth, that she simply wasn't _cold_ enough to seek Cato's body heat, even though deep down she knew that she had made the only decision she could.

 _Cato._

The big, hulking mass that was Cato's muscular body was incredibly comforting beside her. It was an intrusive thought not unlike the ones that urge you to jump from a cliff, however it seemed o affect Katniss deeply. She was _comforted_ by Cato's body beside her. She instantly felt sick.

Gently - _why was she being so gentle_?- she tried to move away from him, however realised that she was trapped under his thick arm. He was pulling her closer in his slumber, snoring lightly as his grip tightened across her stomach.

 _'Like a large python.'_ Katniss thought to herself, _'constricing it's prey.'_

She tried - and failed - to move his arm off of her stomach. She was truly trapped under heavy arm and there was nothing that she could do about it unless he woke and moved his arm himself.

She wondered breifly how he would react upon waking. Would he be angry at the sight of her? Would he take his hands and place them around her neck, squeezing tightly until her lips turned blue? Panicking slightly, she quickly looked around her to see if she had a weapon on her, just in case he did manage to hurt her, howver calmed significantly when she remembered that a quick kick to his broken leg would render him defensless.

"Cato." She said, peering at his face. It was strange how little his face, when he was sleeping, resembled his awake persona. In this moment the brutal killer that was Cato didn't exist. It both fascinated and terrified her.

She waited a moment before repeating his name, this time a little louder. "Cato!" She insisted again.

This time Cato awoke, groggy from sleep. He looked around wonderingly for a moment, taking in his surroundings, before his gaze settled on his reluctant companinion.

His reaction to her surprised Katniss, who was very much on edge, ready to kick his leg if he didn't co operate. He smirked down at her, not lifting his arm or pushing her away. He had found a weakness in her, and he would do anything to exploit it. Katniss Everdeen was, at her core, a survivalist. In a sitation where she might die, she would put her pride away and do whatever she could to keep her heart beating- all he needed to do was push her to the edge.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, Cato smirking and Katniss glaring, never once breaking eye contact. Katniss wouldn't back down. She _couldn't_ back down. Stupidly, she felt that she needed to redeem herself after her episode last night.

Just as she saw Cato was about to speak, however, a canon blast went off. Cato let her go in shock as the sound of the canon vibrated trhough the hole. Katniss jumped away, free from his arms. She wondered how many blasts had happened since they had been out- there was no way to know for certain.

She hoped that it wasn't for Peta.

She looked back at Cato and knew from the way that his brows furrowed and his mouth tensed that he was hoping it wasn't for Clove.

Katniss was silent for some time after that, despite Cato trying, unsuccessfully, to get a rise from her. He was so _annoying_. She decided that as soon as they got out, she would kill him. For her it would be like unplugging a broken radio from it's outlet. A human, broken radio that would count as a murder.

Her stomach growled more in the breif silences that occured when he ran out of something to annoy her about. She couldn't bare to look at him when it happened, not that she wanted to anyway, because she knew that he had food on him. She didn't want to see his smug face on the other side of their prison when her stomach growled, knowing full well that he was planning to let her starve.

Soon, the thin beam of light appeared again and Katniss mentally calculated that they had been trapped together for around five days. She wondered when she would go stir-crazy.

Apparently, she didn't need to wait very long.

* * *

On the sixth day, as the beam of light steadily disappeared, Katniss huffed. Cato, who had given up on trying to get a rise from her became startled at the sudden noise.

"What are we doing in here?" Katniss hissed seethingly. "I can't believe that I'm trapped in here with you!" She pointed indignantly at him. "We can't climb the walls, we can't move the roof- we can't even reach the roof!- we haven't got food and the only water that we have is disappearing very quickly. This is such a ridiculous situation!"

Katniss huffed again, angry, crossing her arms over her chest. She had never been trapped in the one place for so long. Once, when she was eleven, she had been stuck breifly under an old tree branch when it had fallen suddenly. She had been trapped for a few hours before Gale had come looking for her. She breifly wondered about Gale, hoping that he was okay.

"Why hasn't anyone found us?" Cato asked. "You'd think that they would be trying to at least shove a camera down here so that they could watch us murder each other."

Katniss admitted that he had a point.

"Maybe they really do think that we're dead." She replied stonily. If they thought that they were dead, they wouldn't be rescued. On the other hand, if they were rescued, they would just be put back into the arena anyway.

"Our trackers-" Cato started.

"They could have been destoryed in the explosion."

Cato was silent, takinging it all in. She imagined that he must be feeling irate over the fact that he wouldn't be able to bring pride to his district. He was considered dead, a weakling. No better than the boy from District Five. He was a disgrace.

"This is your fault." Cato said to her. She looked at him, anger pricking at her ears. She had been trapped for so long, she was positively _itching_ for a fight. She wanted to hurt him, to do something that would make him suffer at least a little bit. She wanted, for a breif moment, to make his life in this hole with her absolute misery.

"My fault?" She started. "My fault for doing what exactly? Trying to win the games?"

"You blew up the supplies!"

"I was doing what I needed to!"

"You are so stupid! Didn't you think about scouting the area first to check for _massive fucking holes_!?"

" _I'm_ stupid!?" Katniss fumed, her voice becoming shrill with anger. " _You're_ the one who decided to prance into the woods after a plume of smoke! At this point in the game who would even be _stupid_ enough to light a fire that close to the cornucopia! It was _obviously_ a trap!"

"It's your fault!" He boomed at her again.

"I was trying to survive!"

"Yeah? Well good fucking job! Now we're _both_ trapped in here and by the looks of things, neither of us are getting out!"

"I hate you." She spat at him.

"The feeling's mutual." He responded shortly.

They were silent again for a short while until another canon sounded.

Katniss's heart beat faster. She mentally calculated how many were left but she couldn't know for certain. It was when she heard the announcement, however, that she felt nauseas.

 _ **"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to announce the victor for the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games: Clove Woodbury!"**_

"I'm going to be sick."


End file.
